


Just Your Friendly Neighborhood ???

by schrupert



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Amnesia, Suspense, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-22 22:38:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17068493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schrupert/pseuds/schrupert
Summary: Peter Parker wakes up one day and has amnesia.  Who is he really? How did he get amnesia? And why do all these costumed people keep stopping him in the street?





	1. Chapter 1

"Peter?" 

His head is pounding. Throbbing.  Splitting. Why does it hurt so much?

"Peter, are you awake?" 

The voice - he recognizes it.  He can't remember.  He sees a picture of her in his head, a woman, an older woman - middle-aged? She knows him well.  Mom?  No not Mom.  Mom is...  

"Peter, c'mon, please don't leave me, please don't, please don't--" 

His eyes flutter open.  The light is white, bright, painful.  He shuts them again, squeezing tight.  His head is still pounding.  

He hears her voice again, feels a hand on his shoulder.  

"Peter?" 

Why does she keep saying Peter?  Is he Peter? He doesn't remember.  Doesn't remember anything.  

He manages to open his eyes again, and finds that he's in a big, bright-white room.  Is he dead? Is this death and he's going into the afterlife?  His eyes adjust, and the brightness calms down.  His eyes begin to register - bed, machinery, window, ugly-ass painting of what might be moldy fruit.  No, this can't be the afterlife.  Then where...? 

The woman steps into view, she's just a figure, at first, but then slowly comes into focus.  Dark hair, glasses, he knows her.  He just doesn't know where he knows her.  

"Peter!" She shrieks and hugs him, tightly.  Too tight, his head still hurts.   

"Unghphmf." He tries to speak, but it comes out garbled. His eyes droop again, and he's out for -- a moment? Hours? Time doesn't seem to exist.  

When he manages to open his eyes again, it's darker.  The window blinds are open, he's looking out into a city, a city at night.  

It's a hospital room, he registers.  There are wires hooked up to him, bandages on his body.  And his head - he isn't sure what's happened to his head, but will it ever stop hurting? 

There are more people in the room - a doctor, a few nurses, and the woman pacing anxiously.  Her eyes grow wide when she sees that he's awake. 

"He's up!" she cries, pulling on the sleeve of a doctor.  She seems hesitant to touch him this time.  "He's up."  

They all surround the hospital bed.  

"Oh thank god," she says, clutching a hand to her heart.  "Thank god you're still with us." 

Everyone's smiling.  Everyone's happy.  But -- something's missing. He doesn't understand.  

"Who are you?" He manages to ask.  

"I'm May," she says, concerned.  "I'm your Aunt.  Your Aunt May."

He has an aunt, that seems to compute.  Like a bit of lost knowledge lodged far away in his brain.  He doesn't remember her, but it feels right.  

He sits up a little.  Looks around.  Looks at his own hands, his own body.  He doesn't remember...  

"You're Aunt May?"

"Yes," she says, too hopefully.  

"Then who am I?" 

Aunt May sits on the edge of the bed, her brow wrinkling as if confused, concerned.  "You don't remember who you are?" 

He shakes his head.  

"You're my nephew," she says softly.  "You're Peter.  Peter Parker." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more people added to the tags and such as they appear :)


	2. Chapter 2

Peter Parker.  Peter Parker.  Peter Parker.

He rolled the name around in his head, repeating it over and over again and trying to make it make sense.  It was his name after all, wasn't it?  It's what the nice lady - May, his aunt - had called it.  It's what the nurses called him after May left for the evening.  It's even what his chart at the end of the bed called him.

So if that was his name, why did it mean nothing to him?  

It was late now.  Well past midnight.  But he couldn't sleep.  He kept trying to remember anything that had happened before waking up in a hospital with a crying lady standing over him.

May.  Her name was May.  She was his aunt.  

Just because he didn't remember her now, didn't mean that if he called her Aunt May in his head enough times he might remember.  Maybe that would be the trick to remembering something - anything - about what was going on.  Repeating his name didn't seem to register anything, but maybe repeating the name of someone who obviously cared about him...

Aunt May.  Aunt May.  Aunt May.

Her voice, the feel of her hand on his were familiar in the way a long lost memory of a book you read a long time ago that was important at one point in your life was familiar.  But anything particular was just... fog.  Mist.  Ephemeral.

It was a head injury, obviously.  The pain had gone down since he'd woken up but wasn't gone completely.  He could bend his arms and legs, even though his skin was dotted with bandages and what felt like stitches in some of the ways that me moved.  Had he fallen?  A car accident?  Wouldn't something have broken if he really ran into something?  Or if something ran into him?  His head felt like he'd gotten hit by a city bus.

On the plus side... at least he remembered what a city bus was.  Not that that helps with who Peter Parker is.

Maybe Peter Parker spent a lot of time on a city bus?  Really liked city buses?  Drove a city bus?

He should make a note to ask Aunt May that when she comes back in the morning once visiting hours resume.  He had a lot of questions for her already, what was one more?

He leaned back against his pillow, took a deep breath, and stared absently at the ceiling in the dark room once again.  Everything would be okay, wouldn't it?  His doctors were good.  Aunt May insisted that everything would be okay before she left.  Everything would be okay.  Everything would...

Peter's breath caught in his throat, but he continued to stare up at the ceiling.  

There was someone else in the hospital room.

A deep voice in the darkness murmured, "You're awake."

Peter turned his head slowly to face the voice in the darkness.  "Who are you?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Well, you survived.  That's good," a man stepped into the light.  He was older - middle-aged? Timeless? Dark eyes, dark hair down to his shoulders.  And... a metal arm?  The dude had a freakin' metal arm, which looked like was holding some sort of machine gun.  Oh! He could remember what a machine gun was but not his Aunt.  What the hell was going on? 

Peter squirmed in the bed, his senses going crazy. Everything felt dialed up to eleven. There was danger in the room? In the building? Not specifically, oddly enough, from the man next to the bed.  

"Who are you?" Peter repeated.  "What's going on?" 

"They took you away before we could get to you," the man said, looking over Peter.  He seemed to be checking out the biggest of the wounds -- one on his shoulder, one on his abdomen, and then whatever happened to his head.   Blunt force trauma.  A stab wound.  Knicks and scrapes everywhere.  The doctors who had come to talk to him had been vague at best but he gathered that they were just as in dark about his injuries as he was.  His Aunt - (Aunt May, Aunt May, Aunt May - why can't he remember?) had been called to the hospital.  She knew nothing, and had yelled at the cops, begging them to find whoever had done this.  

The cops had questioned him as well - but he could barely remember the last few hours let alone the rest of his life.  

That had been... yesterday?  Time still felt wobbly at best.  The doctors said he had to recover further before they'd let Aunt May take him home, even though Aunt May wanted him to leave the hospital as soon as possible.  She was adamant about it.  Why? Maybe the dude with the metal arm was why.  Maybe she knew?

"This isn't too bad," the man said, a faint smile on his lips.  "I've seen worse." He motioned to his arm.  "I'm sure your powers will help heal you quicker. I might be able to get you out of here in a few hours if need be." 

"My powers?" This was going to keep getting more and more bizarre, wasn't it? "Wait, why do I need to go? What about Aunt May?" 

"Your aunt is going to be fine," the man assured him. "Though - maybe she'll have some emotional distress.  But once you explain it to her..."

"I can't explain it to her," Peter cut him off.  "Because I have no idea who I am or who you are or why I'm here or..." 

"Shhh, you don't want someone to hear you," the man said, eyeing the room suspiciously.  He took a moment to quickly inspect the tiny quarters - checking the sink, the mini-bathroom, the other bed.  "I think we're okay but you can never be too sure." 

"If you don't explain what's going on, I'm going to start screaming." Peter grabbed the button that called the nurse.  

The man whirled around to face him, putting a finger over his lips.  "You really don't want to do that."

"Then tell me why." 

"You really don't remember?" 

Peter shook his head.  

"Shit," the man began to pace back and forth. "Shit, shit, shit, I have no idea how I'm going to tell him... Alright I suppose we can continue as planned..." 

Feeling frustrated, Peter pushed himself off the bed and grabbed the man's metal arm, squeezing with an incredible strength he didn't know he had.  "Tell me who you are and why you're here."

The man stared back at him in surprise. 

"Of course - you don't remember. I'm Bucky Barnes, and I'm here to protect you." 

Before he could say another word, a dart flew in from the open window and hit the man in the neck, rendering him unconscious. The man with the metal arm and a machine gun fell over Peter's body, while something sinister lurked just outside the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more people added to the tags and such as they appear :)


	4. Chapter 4

Peter was starting to panic.  

In only a few hours he'd woken up in a hospital, forgotten who he was, had a lady (Aunt May, Aunt May, Aunt May) telling him she was his only family, a guy with a metal arm come creeping into his room in the middle of the night telling him he had  _powers_ , and now that guy got knocked out by a dart from somewhere outside his window and was now half in the bed with him.

Was this normal?  Was this how his every day life was?  Wait, was this what every teenager's life was?  No... no, normal teenagers didn't have this.  He knew that much.  This was weird.

Okay, maybe if he didn't move, nothing else would get shot through the window.  But he couldn't just leave a guy with a metal arm unconscious in his lap in his bed.  And if he did move, would someone shoot him with something through the window?  Were they trying to get him?  Or were they trying to protect him?  Was the guy with the metal arm (Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes) here to help him or hurt him?

What would a normal person do in this situation.

Call the nurse.

Peter pressed the nurse call button repeatedly.

A shorter, red-haired woman walked in wearing blue scrubs and a bright smile.  "Mr. Parker, you pressed the..."  She trailed off, obviously noticing the man with a metal arm draped unconscious across his bed.  

"I can explain," Peter said.  "I think."

The nurse's expression hardened and she pulled a gun from her waistband and pointed it at the window.  "Shit.  Where did it come from?"

"What?"

"The dart.  In Barnes' neck.  The window?"  She shifted quickly to the side of the bed so that she was out of the line of sight of the window.

"You know him?"  

"You really did lose all of your memory, didn't you?"

"Do I know you?"

She sighed, reaching a hand out to gently nudge Bucky's good arm.  "Natasha.  Yes, you know me.  Just like you know him.  I didn't think they'd find you this quickly."  She quirked an eyebrow at Peter.  "But then, I also thought Barnes would be able to get you out while I distracted the nursing staff.  He's usually better at this."

"Better at what?"

"Better at not getting shot, for one."

Peter clutched his head as he glanced towards the window.  It's like every nerve in his body was on fire and yelling  _danger danger danger_ but he couldn't pinpoint what he was supposed to be avoiding danger from.  "There's something on the other side of the window."

"Yeah, and it shot Barnes," Natasha said.  She slipped her gun back into the waistband of her scrubs and started pulling wires off of Peter.  "We have to get out of here.  Now.  They've found you and if they were able to get the jump on Barnes, I don't want to go up against them with you still doing... this."

"What are we doing?"

" _We_ ," she said, giving Peter a yank that forced him to roll out from under Bucky and to stand up off the bed, "are going to blow this popsicle stand and get you somewhere safe.  Quick, help me get Barnes in the bed and the blanket over him."

Peter did as he was told without thinking.  A slight breeze from the air conditioner reminded him that he was in a hospital gown and naked from the back, but Natasha didn't seem to notice.  But why did he think that Natasha probably noticed  _everything_?  

With Bucky now in the hospital bed, he almost look pleasantly asleep.

"Go grab a pair of scrubs from that closet," Natasha instructed, pointing to a closet in the corner.  "You're going to be a nurse.  Or... at least a candy striper."

"But... what are we going to do?" Peter asked as he pulled the scrubs from the closet.

Natasha smiled.  "We're going to sneak out of the hospital."


	5. Chapter 5

A few minutes later, he was entirely dressed as a candy striper, and a quick glance in the mirror told him that a) he was insanely banged up and should really not be out of the hospital bed and b) red really wasn’t a bad color on him. Something nagged at the back of his brain, a reminder of… something, but what he didn’t couldn’t remember.  And Natasha didn’t look as though she were waiting for him to figure it out. 

“You look cute, Parker.  But we have to go. Now!” she said.

“This is insane!” Peter cried.  “I can’t sneak out of here with you - one half of me is broken and the other half of me has no idea what the frick is going on and…” 

“Your mind is really gone?” Natasha took a second to consider, tilting her head.  “Huh - it’s probably better that you don’t remember any of it. Cause, damn, you’re going to be pissed when you figure out what he had you do…” 

Before Peter could question it, another dart shot through the window.  Natasha quickly jumped between him and the dart, causing them both to crash to the ground, the dart landing only a foot away.  Peter began to speak, but Natasha placed a finger over his lips and shook her head - not a word. 

She then quietly slithered over to the window, popped up, and shot her gun out the window.  Peter heard a faint yelp and then nothing. His senses seemed to calm down, too - though he wasn’t sure if she just killed whatever was out there or just slowed it down.  He didn’t want to ask. 

Natasha hurried to him, and helped him up. “Okay, we’re going now before more turn up.” 

“What about him?” Peter motioned towards the guy in the bed (Bucky, the guy was Bucky).  

“He’ll be fine - he could use a good nap.  Unfortunately, it’s you they’re after.” 

They exited the room, luckily no one was there, and hurried down the hallway.  Around the corner was a nurse’s station, a few women huddled around a monitor, discussing some soap opera they were watching on a TV.  The only way out was the crossing hallways on the other side of the station. 

“Okay, so two things - one, I have something for you.”  Out of the satchel on her waist she pulled out what looked like two cuffs, and placed one on each of his wrists.  “Sorry, I couldn’t get your suit, but I could get these.” 

“What are they?” Peter pressed the button on one of the cuffs and something white and sticky shot out across the hall.  Thank god the nurses were too engrossed in their soap.  “What was that?” 

“You’re webbing,” Natasha said.  “Okay, so thing number two, I’m gonna need you to carry me up the wall and onto the ceiling.”  

Peter’s jaw dropped.  “I-I can’t do that, are you crazy?  You’re crazy and I’m in some kind of drug induced dream from whatever head trauma I’ve sustained because I’m not climbing the wall.  I can’t do that…” But something nagged at him. He could -- if he tried he -- no, nope, this was nuts. 

“Peter, you can trust me,” Natasha assured him.  “We’re Spiderbros.” 

“Spiderbros?”  

“Yes - My code name is Black Widow.  You’re Spider-Man.” 

“Spider-Man?” Sure.  Peter let out a nervous laugh. Because that made sense.  The Amazing and Spectacular Spider-Man. Sure. “That is a ridiculous name. Quite frankly, I’m disappointed in myself for coming up with such a dumb name.  And, oh god, Black Widow - did you kill your husband, shit, you’re not my mom are you? No that doesn’t feel right. Hey, where’s  _ your _ webbing, Spiderbro?”

“Peter!” Natasha snapped.  “Shut up.” 

Okay, okay…. 

Peter took a deep breath as Natasha put her arms around his waist, waiting to be lifted up on to the wall.  Just climb the wall - as if it were that easy. And yet -- without thinking too hard, he began to do it, like it was the most natural thing to do. And more so - Natasha was light as a feather.  She was a full grown woman, who towered over him by a bit - he shouldn’t have been able to lift her. And yet he was doing it. He was climbing a wall with a full grown woman on his back while wearing a candy stripe outfit.  This was insane. He began to freak out just a little more. 

Soon, he was full on the ceiling - and making his way past the nurses’ station.  At any point, they could look up and see such an insane sight. But none of them heard a thing.  None of them seemed to care. Slowly but surely, they made their way past the nurse’s station. 

Just as they were getting to the other side, the elevator at the end of the adjacent hallway opened.  

“That’s my Aunt!” (Aunt May, Aunt May!) She looked distraught as she turned the corner to head towards Peter’s room.  “I can’t leave her here. She’s my family, I just can’t…” 

Natasha sighed heavily.  “Peter, we don’t have time, she’ll be fine.” 

“No - I’m not going anywhere unless she’s safe.” He couldn’t remember Aunt May - but damn,  something inside stirred at the idea that she’d be left alone with these strange things going on.  And he wanted her to be safe - everything in him wanted her to be safe. “Besides, what do you think is going to happen when she finds a guy with a metal arm in my bed?” 

“Fine,” Natasha begrudgingly said.  “I’ll figure something out. Meanwhile, you get out of here.  Make your way up to the top floor, there’s an open window waiting in the eastern corridor - climb to the roof and…” 

“You want to go up, not down?” 

“You’ll be fine - get to the roof, I’ll meet you there.  And Peter?” 

“Yes?” 

“Try not to get caught.”  

Natasha went one way, and Peter went another.  Everything was going to be just fine until - BAM! As he turned around he ran smack dab into a girl who also came out of the elevator.  So much for not getting caught. 

“Peter?” The girl was his own age, and seemed to recognize who he was.  

“MJ?” He knew her name.  How did he know her name?  He knew her name because she was beautiful, and important, but he didn’t know why.   The initials just danced in his head. And his began to heart race just a little. 

“Peter are you okay?” She had an amused smile on her lips, and crossed her arms over her chest - pretending that she didn’t care.  But he knew she did. How did he know that?? “I mean, I really want to make fun of you for being in a candy striper outfit, but damn, your ass looks fine in those pants, and I cannot wait until Ned gets here and - man, do you have a concussion, you look really bad? Aren’t you supposed to be in bed? Your Aunt said you were in a coma for a while.” 

Before Peter could answer what little he knew, some men in black suits came appeared out of the elevator.  Peter’s head went wild. They had to go. Now. But he couldn’t just leave MJ. 

“MJ do you trust me?” Peter asked - crazy to ask that of someone he didn’t remember - not really.  

“You know I do.” 

“Okay, we have to run.”  And with that he grabbed her hand as they fled.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are enjoying it! Would love to hear from you :)


End file.
